Against the Tide
by MelonMochi
Summary: (ooc/oc-centric) What if Amaimon had a son?
1. Chapter 1

_Moonlight filtered through the clouds, through gaps in the canopy of trees, casting horrible, dark shadows on the undergrowth around him. He was standing alone on the outskirts of a dense forest, an endless chasm at his back. Overcome with disoriented fear, he stumbled forward, toward the safety of the trees, but a sudden sensation of dread stopped him in his tracks. Something was there, writhing in the shadows, and he knew it, whatever it was, wanted to kill him._

_Amon took a cautious step back, his hands trembling, his breath shallow and quick. He was in a complete, crippling state of panic, incoherent thoughts slipping through his mind like grains of sand. The boy could only watch as..._something_, twitching and misshapen, dragged itself out of the darkness._

_It was a horrifying monster made of black smoke. Thick mist drifted lazily across the ground from somewhere behind it, pooling at its unseen feet. Around its body was the long, black exorcist uniform, accompanied by the familiar red-and-blue sigil on its left breast. Its face was completely consumed by the shadows, its only defining features a wide-toothed grin and sunken eyes engulfed in a terrifyingly familiar blue flame. Two shiny, loaded guns – it didn't cross his mind how he knew they were loaded – hung loosely in either hand._

"_You're a _failure_," it growled, though its mouth didn't move._

"_No," Amon was surprised how easily his voice came to him, "No, you're wrong. I... I'm not-"_

_The monster's expression was suddenly so livid it cut him off mid-sentence. It stepped forward, dragging its body, and raised a gun. "_Failure_!" It roared and pulled the trigger._

**Chapter One  
Nightmare**

He flew upright, his heart pounding so hard he feared it would erupt from his chest. His hasty movements made the world spin and he gripped his throbbing head until his vision returned to normal.

The blaring of his phone's alarm had been the gunshot that roused him from his sleep. Feeling silly, he turned it off and drew in a long, deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it slowly.

_Just another bad dream..._

He seemed to be having them a lot lately; nightmares of a black monster in exorcist garb. But their memories often faded into the back of his mind before the morning was over, so he never concerned himself with their meaning. They were just pointless dreams that emphasized his worry for attending True Cross Academy, that's all. He pushed the thought aside and got out of bed.

Thin light of approaching dawn filtered into his room through deep, sea green drapes. He pulled them back, opened his window, and gazed groggily at the unspoiled beauty of his garden, allowing it to calm him. A chilly, gentle breeze carried the faint scent of lilac. The backyard was dotted with budding flowers of various colors and out of season plants that had no trouble blooming beautifully in his presence. He knew why his garden blossomed so eagerly, even in the winter months, but he tried his best to ignore it.

After ridding his mind of the smoke monster's frightening effects, he showered and stared at himself in the mirror.

Amon had a kind face, just like his late mother, apparently. He had round cheeks with wide, brown eyes and eyebrows that turned upward naturally. His body wasn't toned or even slightly muscular, but thin and lanky. 'Squishy' was the term dad often used when he described him. His most defining, (and disturbing), feature was his hair – it had two colors: black on the bottom and a light shade of green on the top, separated by a jagged line that wrapped all the way around. Atop his head sat an upright spike that leaned slightly to his left, branding him as the son of Amaimon. He ran his fingers through his damp hair, smoothing it back. A few seconds passed before it sprung back up, glaring at him, a permanent reminder of what he was.

_A demon_.

He sighed heavily and finished dressing into his new uniform. When he exited the bathroom, he was greeted by the light sounds of clanking dishes. "Morning," he called, searching the refrigerator for something sweet to drink.

"Morning," Asterius-niisan returned his greeting.

Asterius was impressively muscular and, as a result, massive. At almost seven feet tall, his human host left little to the imagination. Amon vaguely remembered what he looked like as a minotaur and, aside from the bull head and hairy legs that ended in hooves, there wasn't much of a difference.

He lived with Amon as his half-brother and legal guardian. They looked similar at a distance – brown eyes, black hair – but they weren't really related. Asterius, kin of Iblis, was gifted to him as a bodyguard on his eighth birthday. Amaimon demanded that they pretend to be brothers in Assiah to prevent suspicion. Neither of them understood who they were hiding from, but they played their roles regardless, even when not in his presence.

"Where's dad?" he asked, pouring himself a tall glass of apple juice. Today would be his first time in a high school, and he wanted dad to be here to offer some form of comfort for his frayed nerves.

"He already left."

"Oh." He sighed, trying to smother his disappointment. "Okay, then." He hesitated, staring blankly at the juice in his glass.

Asterius noticed his discomfort. He was trained to be tuned to Amon's emotions – to know when to protect him and when to let him protect himself. "You'll be fine." He tossed strips of bacon into the heated pan, earning a disgusted frown from Amon.

"It's a school full of exorcists – _someone_ is going to recognize me." He flopped down at the table and tentatively took a sip from his glass. "And then word will spread and I won't be able to make any friends or..." his voice trailed off and he let the thought hang unspoken in the air. Amon drew in another shaky breath, a futile attempt to calm himself, and ran his fingers through his hair again. It was an action he did when he was nervous, as if smoothing the spike down would hide its existence from the rest of the world. He cringed inwardly when he felt it bounce back up.

"Amon," Asterius-niisan growled at him in a way that was not unkind. "You need to stop worrying about it. True Cross is a big school – If you meet any exorcists who pick on you, just avoid them."

He let out a stubborn groan and rested his chin in his hand. "Easier said than done."

"Stop complaining," he demanded, placing a plate full of freshly sliced Manticore tail before him, "More than half that school has normal students who won't know or care what you are." He let out a short, irritated sigh when he noticed the boy wasn't listening, instead nibbling the edge of his thumb in thought. "You're just like your father." Amon gave an innocent smile that Asterius-niisan only glared at.

Amon's shoulders slumped when he turned back to the stove. He picked up his fork and pushed around the dark pink slices for a moment before deciding to eat elsewhere. "I'm going to have breakfast in the garden – Maybe the fresh air will help clear my head."

"Fifteen minutes," Asterius-niisan called to him without turning around, waving his chopsticks to add emphasis to his words.

Their backyard had been converted to a rich palette of flowers, shrubs, and fruit trees divided into sections which were divided even further by seasons. A white cobblestone path weaved between each bed of flowers and plants, allowing him to admire his work up close. Off to his left was an elliptical bed of almost a dozen different species of roses – his favorite – accentuated by a small, granite pond that was home to both frogs and koi. Two bird feeders could be found on either side of the main path, always busy with flapping wings. Their singing, accompanied by the gently swaying buds in the April breeze, erased all fear from his mind. It would come back to him, he knew it was inevitable, but, for now, he didn't have to worry about how he would be perceived at school.

Everything seemed better when he was here – the world was distant, fading under the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, he could breathe easier, not weighed down by apprehensive thoughts, even dad's mood seemed to improve when he gazed at the garden.

Amon lazily lifted his eyes to the treetops, scanning them for any sign of Amaimon, some hope still lingering in his mind. But he couldn't see or feel him, so he returned to his peaceful breakfast, left to wonder where dad had gone.

He dragged his hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. His fingers weaved through the spike, pressing it down gently. Despite his attempts to hide it, Amaimon's reputation clung to him, sometimes ruining opportunities that would have otherwise been given easily to him. He loved his father and often wondered why no one else could see what he did. Amaimon was a demon, not a monster. He wasn't abusive or mean or neglectful, he just didn't know how to raise children. He did his best to be a father, but he wasn't any good at it, so many people – mostly exorcists – misunderstood his intentions.

Dad would be here by the time the entrance ceremony was over, Amon reassured himself, and he would be eager to hear all about how much he liked his first experience with school.

"Amon," Asterius-niisan's hard voice ripped him from his thoughts. "Hurry up! You'll be late!" He walked back into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"Okay," he released a slow breath and spoke quietly to himself, "It's okay, Amon. Don't be scared – You can do this. If someone recognizes you, just ignore them and walk away." Another sigh. "You've always wanted to be a normal student and, now, here's your chance. Don't screw it up!" He stood with renewed energy and stretched his arms high above his head before gathering his empty dishes.

* * *

The train station that would take him to True Cross Academy was only a block away from his house, but he often took an alternative route, both for the exercise and the excitement.

The bike's spokes rattled against the hard wind as he flew down the hill as fast as he could. Over the years, Amon has learned that the best way to handle fear is to forget about it. So he rode his bike down the slope near his house, feeling the wind ruffle his hair, the sun on his skin, the crisp scent of the ocean, and the unexplainable exhilaration as he avoided oncoming cars. But, all too quickly, the downhill fun faded and he was on flat road.

Amon slowed his pace when he rounded the corner and noticed another student with the academy's uniform on a bike waiting for the crosswalk. Excitement burned away his anxiety and he boldly pulled up beside the blond, smiling politely. "Hey! Are you going to True Cross Academy too?"

The boy looked up, relief briefly shown on his face. His eyes were immediately drawn to the lopsided spike on Amon's head – something he was used to – and his expression faltered. "O-Oh, uh... Yeah." He turned away, his grip tightening on the rubber handles of his bike until his knuckles were white.

At that moment, all of his fears about attending True Cross returned to him. Amon sighed to himself and faced forward, eagerly wanting the light to change so he could escape the awkward atmosphere he had created. As soon as it did, he sped off, not offering the other boy a glance. He didn't stop or slow until he was at the station. Breathless, Amon fumbled roughly with his bike's lock, trying to suppress the emotions welling up inside him. Going to a school filled with exorcists when all he wanted was to be left alone was such a _bad_ idea. He wished he had the courage to refuse, but dad was so adamant that he attend _this_ school and not a public one as Amon had wanted. He took his frustration out on the lock and kicked it once it clicked. The blond student from earlier approached as he was leaving, obviously trying to avoid eye contact.

He picked a seat near the front of the train and flopped down with a huff after pulling the window open. Amon kept his eyes locked on the ocean for the entire ride, trying to lose his frustration in the wind and shimmering sunlight reflecting in fractals on the surface of the water.

The train ride was shorter than he hoped and he still felt angry when he exited the station, but the amazing, opulent sight of True Cross helped chase away any remaining irritation. It was as spectacular as it was confusing – Amon didn't even know which buildings belonged to the school. The sidewalk was crowded with students wearing the same uniform, some marveling with him, others greeting their friends, but everyone seemed to be talking over someone else and laughing.

He realized he was gaping and closed his mouth with a snap.

Amon followed the flow of students pass those who were checking into the dormitories and into the main building. It took a bit of effort to push through the congested group that had gathered around the bulletin board, but he managed to note down his classroom number before he was shoved aside.

Thanks to the alternate route he had taken to the train station, he didn't have enough time to meet his teachers or climb the stairs and search for his class. He did, however, have time to stop and stare at the brightly-colored posters on the walls – advertisements for school clubs. They were after school activities that _anyone_ could join, even a demon. Before he entered the auditorium for the orientation, Amon decided on track and theater.

The entrance ceremony was boring and uneventful. There was a brief introduction by the president – Johann Faust – another short speech by their class representative – Jin something – followed by a long, drawn out talk about the school. Amon didn't pay much attention; too busy daydreaming about running cross country or decorating a stage.

When it was finally over, he followed the crowd back to the lobby and decided to take a tour of the rooms open to first year students. The cafeteria instantly reminded him of Hogwarts with its high, arched ceiling, long, widely spaced tables, and hanging chandeliers. Near the counter which led to an open view of the kitchen was a group of glass cases displaying various types of food and their prices. He examined the dishes with disgust, surprised to find that such a wealthy school didn't have anything edible for their demonic familiars.

He would sooner starve than eat Assiah food – apples and certain processed sweets were the only exceptions.

Bored with the gaudy decor and repulsing lunch options, Amon made his way up the right staircase where the four classrooms for first year students were located. He hesitated outside the door to his class, muffled sounds of conversation heightening his anxiety. How many students would recognize him? How many parents would shoot him dirty looks or usher their children away?

Amon held his breath, a futile attempt to force these thoughts into the back of his head, and pushed the door open. Immediately, he was greeted by a cacophony of voices, the large room's acoustics causing them to echo and seem more disorienting than they already were. A few students turned to eye him as he entered. He ignored them, fighting with the urge to hide and run.

_Stop it!_ He screamed at himself. _Not everyone is going to know. You _have _to overcome this!_ Amon tried to distract himself by wandering around the room, mindlessly admiring the intricate design of the windows for about ten minutes.

"U-Um, hello." He tensed and turned to find a cute, petite girl fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

"Oh, u-uh..." he stuttered slightly and cleared his throat. "Hello."

She flushed, avoiding eye contact. "Are you...new to the area?"

"Yeah. How...how did you know?"

"Well... I am too and, um, you don't seem to know anyone..."

Amon glanced around, noticing for the first time that almost all the students had someone to talk to or laugh with. "Yikes, is it _that_ obvious?"

She giggled and smiled at him. "I like your hair."

"O-Oh, I-I...uh," he hesitated and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling his face grow hot. "Umm... Y-You, uh... Re-Really?"

She nodded.

Overcome with the sensation of relief, Amon started to introduce himself and the girl – Hamada – to other students until she departed. Though nearly all of them raised a brow at his hair, most of them seemed to like him, and a few even commented on his 'cool hairstyle'.

He didn't even notice an hour had passed until his phone vibrated. Amon didn't recognize the number, but still excused himself from the noisy room to take the call. "Hello?"

An eager, strangely familiar voice greeted him on the other end. "Ah, hello! Thank you for waiting! Cram school is about to begin and I see you're running a little late. Please meet me by the courtyard fountain and I will escort you!"

"Huh? Who's this?" No response. "Hello?" Amon glanced at his screen only to find that the call had ended.

Confused and slightly concerned, he returned to the classroom and grabbed the attention of the first person he saw – a girl with rather messy hair. "Uh, e-excuse me, do you know where the courtyard fountain is?"

Her already dour expression seemed to darken as she eyed his hair. "_Amaimon_ had a _kid_?" She scoffed.

He tensed and instantly lost his friendly disposition. "Tell me where the fountain is," he spoke slowly, enunciating his words venomously and failing to control his flaring temper.

She raised a brow at his sudden change of tone. "Go through the double doors behind the right staircase."

Amon spun on his heel and left quickly, anger heavy in his footsteps. Guilt struck him as he descended the staircase, washing away all irritation he felt for the cyan-haired girl. It wasn't entirely her fault, but her demeaning tone had made him snap. He was sick of everyone telling him how to feel or that he was dangerous or that his father was too childish to raise a son properly.

But if he continued to respond like this, then it would only prove their suspicions about him and demons in general.

If he saw her again before the day was over, he would apologize for his hostile behavior.

The courtyard was mostly empty, with thick, green grass and strategically placed bushes around a large, stunning fountain. It had two tall tiers at the bottom with thin crevices where water flowed down from the smallest tier at the top surrounded by statues. He frowned at it as he sat on the lowest base, disgusted by the overly decorative design of absolutely _everything_ at the school.

While he waited, Amon stared at the unknown number on his phone's screen and chewed his thumb, as if that would somehow reveal the caller's intentions.

"Ah, there you are!" A strange man dressed in white – gaudy to match the school's extravagant atmosphere – approached him, swinging a pink umbrella accentuated by sweets in his left hand.

Amon knew immediately that he was a demon. Not only was it obvious to the naked eye – his overly confident gait, his otherworldly fashion sense, his sharp eyes, his immaculate skin – but demons, (especially those hiding in hosts), emitted this subtle, vibrating aura that he could feel if he concentrated hard enough. The longer and more drawn out the pulses of the vibration, the higher up the demonic hierarchy they were. With this rather pointless ability, Amon knew the man was the demon king of time and space and someone he had to be careful around. He slumped forward and tried to make himself appear as small and inferior as possible.

It was only when the man was a few feet away that Amon finally recognized him. "P-President Faust!?"

"Please call me Mephisto Pheles." He winked.

"I-I, uh," Amon cleared his throat with apparent difficulty and thought it would be more appropriate to stand. "What do you want with someone like me?" he asked, trying to appear pathetic, just like how dad had taught him.

President Faust looked at Amon and smiled gently, a ghost of a smile that he might have missed had he not been looking directly at the demon. "There's no need to act so formal in front of me, Amon." He jumped, startled that the _demon king of time_ knew his name. Should he be worried or grateful? "Don't you remember? I'm your uncle! You lived in my mansion while you were recovering from miasma poisoning."

Amon suddenly noticed the blaring similarities between Uncle Mephisto and Amaimon: the slightly pointed ears, the high cheekbones, the subtle fangs, even the permanent, dark circles under his eyes, a trait Amon was thankful he didn't inherit.

"I don't remember." He spoke the truth – he could clearly recall the fiery pain in his lungs, but not his surroundings. Besides, Amon was a poor liar and it would be a _terrible_ idea to lie to a demon king.

Uncle Mephisto regarded him with pitying eyes, his eyebrows drawn in, his mouth turned down at the corners. "Forgive me, Amon. You were very ill – I'm sure it's difficult to remember."

Amon took his fictitious apology with an awkward shrug that led to a thick silence. He chewed his thumb anxiously under Uncle Mephisto's scrutinizing gaze until he could no longer stand the lack of noise. "Why did you call me, Uncle?"

"Ah, yes!" He snapped his fingers, as if he'd just forgotten and remembered. "You are late for cram school!"

"Cram school?" Panic settled in his chest. "B-But I passed all the entrance exams."

He raised his brows briefly in amusement and grinned. "_This_ cram school is for exorcists!" Amon's stomach twisted in knots at the sound of that word and it took everything he had not to flinch. "And, recently, for half-demons wanting to learn how to better their abilities!"

"O-Oh. I, I-I'm not-" Amon's breath hitched in his throat. He wanted to say something, refuse maybe, but he was too stunned to move or form any coherent words.

"I understand you're not a half-breed, but let's keep that a _secret_ between us!" He winked yet again, unpleasantly cheerful.

"_Why_?" It was all he could manage.

Uncle Mephisto became serious, if only a little. "Amaimon told me you were having trouble developing your powers on your own, so we figured it would be best to place you in an environment where they would be forced to emerge."

He narrowed his eyes at the demon king, his voice suddenly steady and stiff. "But I don't _have_ any powers to develop!" He spoke rudely considering his position compared to the king of time, but he didn't care anymore. "I've _never_ been able to do the things my father can – the best I can do is make plants grow. It would be a waste of time and resources to send me to cram school."

"Nonsense!" he laughed, "You are my nephew, _of course_ you have power!" He leaned forward, his grin widening. "Even more than Amaimon, I hope." He stepped back and tapped Amon gently on the head with his umbrella. "We just have to find it and bring it out!"

He might have laughed again, but Amon couldn't be certain of that because all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. It should be no surprise that Uncle Mephisto didn't believe him – after all, he was the son of Amaimon, a _demon king_. Surely it's impossible for someone like Amon to not have any powers, any strength, to be so utterly _human_.

Now he understood why Amaimon picked True Cross Academy, because even he couldn't believe that his son was so worthless.

Amon had never had to worry about how incompetent he was – he had even grown comfortable with his lack of abilities around his father. But now he would have to show how much of a failure he was in front of an entire class filled with _half-breeds_ far more powerful than him, a _full-blooded_ demon. At that moment, he realized that _this_ was far worse than his previous fear of being recognized as a monster.

"Let's hurry – Class has already started!" Uncle Mephisto spun on his heel and began prancing his way out of the courtyard. "You'll love the Self Defense teacher, Amon. He's a half-demon – ah, but not the type you'd expect..."

He sighed heavily and dragged his trembling fingers through his hair. There was no point in arguing, so he gave up and reluctantly followed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hello! I hope you like Amon! I worked stupidly hard to make him a well-balanced character despite being well...completely normal by human standards. Let me know if there's anything about him that you think I should change!

I know not many people are interested in this type of story, so thank you for reading and giving this a try! Also thanks to tarballGZ for helping flesh out the plot! This story wouldn't be as good without your help, so thank you! And of course thanks to everyone who submitted characters for me to use! I hope I wrote them well.

**Blue Exorcist belongs to Katou Kazue and Co.  
****Illustri belongs to Kizmuth**  
**Jinx and Jun belong to Aneki Okumura  
****Yata belongs to tarballGZ**


	2. Chapter 2

"_Shut up!" He couldn't take it anymore – the crying, the screaming, the feeding, the constant need for attention and supervision – It was driving him mad._

_This was going to end tonight, he decided. He would kill it, if only to earn a few hours of peace._

_Amaimon angrily threw back the thick curtain that led to the adjacent room and loomed over the tiny beast in its wooden crib. The wailing lessened when the baby noticed its father's familiar scowl. Amon hiccuped and flailed his stubby arms, hands clenched into tight fists. He picked up the two-week-old newborn by a wrist and glared at it with disgust. It had a soft, lopsided body, with fat, red cheeks, bright, round eyes, a big, loud mouth, and a thin mess of black hair on its head. Amaimon hated _all_ of it._

"_You're such an _ugly_ thing," he scolded, wrapping his hand around its little neck. "Shut up and die." Just as he began to tighten his grip, Amon clumsily placed a hand on the bridge of his nose._

_He hesitated and that made him even angrier._

"_Stop touching me!" Amon made a strange sound and began playing with his father's face – tapping and squeezing and pulling. His fingers were gentle and unnaturally cold. "You're cold..." Something beyond his control tugged at his heart and churned uncomfortably in his chest. He knew he would regret his lack of action later, but he was no longer in the mood._

_Amaimon placed his son down briefly and removed his tattered jacket. He wrapped it around Amon's little body, paused, and then decided to carry him through the garden until he fell asleep. Carefully, he cradled the baby in his arms, taking slow steps as he walked._

"_I guess you're not _that_ bad," he admitted softly, brushing the unruly black hair from his eyes. Amon grabbed his hand and sucked on a finger._

_No matter how Amaimon looked at him, his son was still ugly and fat and loud. He couldn't figure out what had suddenly made him change his mind._

**Chapter Two  
****Bittersweet**

Amon dragged his feet as he slowly followed Uncle Mephisto down a cobblestone path bordered by vibrant cherry trees. A gentle breeze rustled their branches, blowing loose petals on to the walkway. For a moment, he lost himself in the beauty of his surroundings and forgot his fear. That is, until his uncle tapped him gently on the shoulder with his umbrella. He had stopped in front of what appeared to be a small storage shed.

With a sly grin, the demon held out a simple, silver key. "Here is your infinity key! Make sure you don't lose it." Amon stared at it suspiciously before cautiously accepting it. "Use it on any door to enter the cram school. Convenient, isn't it?" He stepped aside and gestured to the shed. "Try it!"

"Uncle, I..." his voice trailed off and he nervously fidgeted with the key, brushing his thumb against its tiny engravings.

"Amon," he tilted his chin up, smiling gently. "You are a demon prince – Time to act like one and face your fears!"

_He's right. You need to stop acting like a child. What would dad think if he could see you trembling in front of your uncle?_ Amon sighed and steadied his hand, inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door.

He was unprepared for what lied on the other side, but hardly surprised. The shed opened up to an impossible hallway, grand and imposing, with incredibly tall doorways and intricate, gaudy decorations. Each door had four numbers engraved along their frames to distinguish classrooms. As big as the doors were, the hall was even bigger – Its ceiling was high and arched, just like the school, and was several times as long as it was wide. In fact, Amon couldn't see where it began or ended – both sides abruptly vanished into the gloom.

Uncle Mephisto walked past him and twirled around with his arms outstretched. "So? What do you think?" he asked, obviously gloating.

"It's, uh," Amon swallowed hard and suppressed the urge to say something he was certain he would regret, "...interesting," he finished with a forced smile.

"Wonderful!" He clapped his hands together. "You never liked my creations as a child, so its nice to see you've developed your tastes a little." He spun on his heel, his cape fluttering with his movements, and walked toward the nearest door. "This way, Amon. First year classes take place in 1106. I'll introduce you."

Amon froze and his voice caught in his throat. "A-Ah, uh, thanks, Uncle, but I...I-I can take care of myself." He didn't want to draw any attention to himself, negative or positive, and he _knew_ the demon king of time was incapable of being neither quiet nor subtle.

"Don't be ridiculous! It's my job to take care of you while you're here." Without warning, he turned back to the boy, firmly grabbed his arm, and pulled him quickly to the door. "And stop stuttering – You'll make a fool of yourself," he spoke in a tone that said, very clearly, that the topic was no longer open for discussion.

All the fear and anxiety rushed back to him at once, making his head spin. "Ah! U-Uncle, wait! I-I-I'm not ready!" He couldn't hear his own voice anymore, only the desperate pounding of his blood in his ears. "P-Please let go!" He dug his heels into the polished floor and struggled briefly to pull away from the demon's hand, but it only made him tighten his grip. Amon winced in pain and allowed himself to be dragged, wide eyes locked on the floor.

As they neared the classroom, he couldn't help but wonder if dad ever had to endure similar torture from his older brothers.

With a wave of his hand, the door flew open and pink confetti and sparkles seemed to explode from them. "Hello! My apologies for the interruption!" He removed his top hat, bowed briefly, and then yanked a sickly pale Amon up on the dais at the front of the room. "I have one more addition to the class, Okumura."

One of the exorcists, a teacher, he assumed, stepped forward with a friendly smile. "Perfect timing – We just finished introductions." His kind disposition immediately vanished when he noticed Amon's hair. "Mephisto, is this a joke?"

"_Joke_?" There was something dark and unsettling about the way he grinned. "Demons can have children too, or have you forgotten that _already_, Yukio?"

"Maybe you should let me handle this one." A second exorcist stepped forward and gently urged Yukio-sensi aside. At first, all Amon could see was the smoke monster from his nightmares – the teacher's fiery, blue eyes were the same shade and even their silhouettes were similar – but, after a moment, he recognized him as the bastard son of Satan that caused a disturbance in Gehenna a few years back. His name was Rin, if he remembered correctly. "Hey there!" Unable to find his voice, Amon continued to stare dumbly and fidget with the key in his hand, fascinated by the teacher's strange, demonic aura. "Okay, uh, welcome to True Cross!"

"Amon!" Uncle Mephisto finally released him, but not before positioning him to face the students. "Introduce yourself to the class, please."

Against his better judgment, Amon raised his eyes. His knees immediately turned to jelly, his chest tightened, his insides churned uncomfortably, his cheeks burned with embarrassment, his breath came out in short shudders, and every horrible thought he could imagine flooded his mind.

The class was _full_. At least thirty students were staring back at him.

There were fifteen tables arranged in rows of five and columns of three – each with no less than three students, some even having a fourth. It was something so simple and common: a room of strangers, but there were so many unwavering eyes, so many pulses from different demonic kings, _so many people who knew_...it was more than he could stand. Amon's lungs burned and he struggled to breathe.

"Go on." Uncle Mephisto urged, icy.

"I-I... I'm..." he tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat and nothing came out fully formed.

"_Louder_ – They can't hear you."

Amon could feel tears welling in his eyes, sudden and unwanted. He bit the bottom of his lip hard and tried to calm himself. When it didn't work, he bit down harder. It was either that or cry. "M-My name is Amon!" He bowed stiffly. "Pl-Pleased to meet you!" Quiet snickers and hushed conversation erupted from the class. Amon couldn't move – frozen in an awkwardly low bow.

"Ah, good enough," Uncle Mephisto sighed heavily. "Have fun!" He winked and disappeared with a simple snap of his fingers, leaving behind an unnecessary puff of pink smoke. Amon straightened and turned his head to cough. At least it would be a good excuse for his tears.

Yukio-sensi waved the cloud away from his face. "Thank you for joining us today, Amon," he said, his voice tight with irritation. "Make sure you're on time from now on." His glare made Amon feel small.

"S-Sorry..." he stuttered, slowly running his fingers through his hair.

"Don't be so hard on him, Yukio." Rin-sensi tried to give Amon a reassuring smile, but the boy quickly adverted his gaze. "I was late on my first day, too."

He scoffed and adjusted the thinly framed glasses he wore. "You were late _everyday_, nii-san." He turned to the class. "Amon, you will sit next to Chikamatsu." A blond student raised his hand.

The same blond student he ran from earlier that morning.

Amon felt sick, but he did his best to pretend as though he didn't remember their meeting.

"Take your seat so we can begin."

Too distracted by his thoughts, Amon didn't notice when a girl with curly, purple hair stuck her leg out as he passed. He stumbled slightly and caught himself against a nearby desk. "Sorry, Broccoli-kun!" She covered her mouth in mock innocence when he looked back. The laughter that rose around him rang painfully in his ears.

"_That's enough_!" Rin-sensi's hard voice silenced the students. "Class is going to begin now."

Amon finally began to feel calm once the attention shifted to the two exorcists. He had to admit, they were an odd pair: fraternal twins who wanted to give half-breeds a better chance at life in Assiah. Both were passionate about their jobs, Rin-sensi more than his brother. Yukio-sensi, however, seemed to abhor demons and had difficulty hiding it. Amon supposed this was why he primarily dealt with human students.

He was grateful for being born a demon – Yukio-sensi was a terrifying individual.

Together, the brothers explained the cram school's purpose and what was expected of them. All students would participate in the same field assignments and lessons with one exception. At the end of the day, class was divided into two and taught separate lessons: etiquette and Aria. Half-breeds would learn about their anatomy and how to control their instinctual urges while humans would learn how to recite powerful protection mantras and study known demonic weaknesses.

After a brief description of each class, textbooks were distributed and the students were given their first assignment for the year: to read about meisters and pick two to start studying. Amon, not knowing what a meister was before that very moment, could only stare blankly at the page. Most of the students seemed to pick theirs immediately, which made him feel silly for being naïve and indecisive. During the time they were given to make their choices, he fidgeted with his hair, sighed without knowing it, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and finally gave up when Yukio-sensi asked for their attention.

He tucked the unmarked page under the cover of a textbook, ashamed. Was he really just as bad of an exorcist as he was a demon?

Amon wanted to believe he couldn't be _that_ worthless, but he was beginning to lose hope.

"There's one more thing before class is dismissed." Yukio-sensi reached down and grabbed a cage from a compartment under the desk. Inside was a small hobgoblin wearing a collar fixated to the top of its tiny prison. Amon's heart sank at the sight. "Temptaint is a wound or affliction that will allow you to see demons. Those of you who can't see the demon in this cage will need to have the ritual done." He paused and held it up, giving the students in the back a better view. "Follow me." Less than a fourth of the class followed him out of the room.

"Now," Rin-sensi began, "I would like all the half-breeds to stay behind for a few minutes. The rest of you are free to go. Don't forget – Just because your normal classes haven't begun doesn't mean you can skip out on your exorcist classes!"

The room grew awkwardly quiet as the remaining human students gathered their things and left. Growing up, Amon had always been too afraid of bigger demons to approach them and had spent his childhood hidden in dad's palace with Asterius-niisan and Behemoth as his only friends. Being in a class where almost half of its students were powerful demons made him both nervous and excited.

He glanced around the room once, surprised by how human everyone appeared, despite a few wings and horns here and there. Many of the other students were doing the same: looking around and wondering who their enemies were. One of them, kin of Iblis, glared directly at him with unmasked malice. Amon regretted ever looking up and sunk lower in his seat.

"Ahem," Rin-sensi demanded attention again. "I'm sure most of you know who I am. For those who don't – My name is Okumura Rin and I am just like you," he paused to shrug, "Sorta." He paced in front of the desk as he continued, attempting to meet everyone's eyes. "I know what it feels like to be ridiculed and pushed around and treated like you're a monster. But you're not. Here, at True Cross, you are your own person and we will _not_ judge you for who your parents are or what-"

"You don't know _anything_ about us." The Iblis demon who had scowled at Amon interrupted him. "You don't know why we're here, so stop acting like we're helpless!"

The bastard of Satan did not react as expected and laughed lightly. "Darius, was it? You're right! I don't know any of you yet," he smiled. "But I do know what it feels like to be alone, to feel like no one cares about you, and I know a lot of you have already experienced the same thing." He hesitated, waiting for some type of response, but Darius only rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I'm terrible at this kind of stuff!" He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled again. "Just understand that you are all safe to be yourself here and that you can talk to me if you ever feel lonely or uncertain. So...uh, that's it. Dismissed."

Amon, unconcerned with Rin-sensi's short speech, took his time gathering his textbooks, waiting for most of the class to leave before him. He focused on his phone as he walked to the door, trying to look preoccupied by something interesting in his messages. "Amon, wait!" He flinched at the sound of his name and fumbled to catch his phone. His books, however, tumbled noisily to the floor.

"M-Mr. Okumura?"

The teacher was taken aback by his reaction. "Uh, it _is_ Amon, right?" He nodded slowly. "Leave it to Amaimon to name his kid after himself." Rin-sensi sighed and shook his head.

Amon frowned and crouched down to gather his books. "My mother named me."

"Oh... Well, it's a nice name."

"Do you...need anything from me, Mr. Okumura?"

His tone turned serious. "You live with your father, right?" No response. He sighed again. "Listen, Amon, I've met Amaimon a few times before... If you ever need someone to talk to or a safe place to stay-"

"Come to you?" He clenched his teeth, trying to swallow his anger and keep his composure. "My dad would _never_ do anything to hurt me. Why can't you people understand that?"

"Amon, I was just-"

"_Go be a hero to someone else_!"

Stunned, Rin-sensi opened his mouth to respond, but Amon left the room before he could form any words.

* * *

"I'm home!" Amon lazily allowed his bike to clatter to the ground beside Asterius-niisan's car. The minotaur met him at the door and took his textbooks. "Hey, how was college?"

His mouth turned down at the corners. "You look exhausted."

"Huh?" He glanced up from untying his shoes. "Oh, I'm fine."

"Amon-"

"I said I'm fine."

Asterius-niisan noticed his unease, but decided not to pressure him. He placed the books down on a nearby end table. "Where have you been?"

"Cram school." Amon jumped at the sound of dad's voice.

"Dad!" Delighted, he approached him with outstretched arms, but Amaimon quickly stepped back, as though his touch would burn. He stopped and wasn't bothered by dad's rejection. "Sorry! What'd you get for dinner?"

He ignored him. "Did you learn anything?"

"No, our lessons haven't started yet – It was like an orientation."

"How many demons are in your class?"

"Uh, a lot."

"And how many show an interest in you?"

Amon hesitated with his answer, embarrassed all over again. "I-I don't know."

"I expect you to be at the top of your class," he said bluntly. "You are a demon prince and you have _no_ excuse to be weak or stupid, understand?"

His shoulders slumped and he lowered his eyes in submission. "Yes."

"Amaimon," Asterius-niisan's tone was brash. "That's enough."

Dad glared. His silence was a hundred times more threatening than _anything_ Yukio-sensi was capable of, but, thankfully, it never lasted long. "Go wash up, Amon," he softened his voice slightly. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Asterius waited until Amon closed his bedroom door before following his master to the kitchen. The sweet scent of roasting meat filled the room as the earth king opened the oven door to check on his son's meal. Amaimon had learned how to cook and prepare meals not long after Amon was born, but never bothered to learn about the _other_ important aspects of being a father.

"You're being too harsh." He removed plates from the cabinet and set them on the table. "He's just a child – Let him have some fun."

"He can have fun when he isn't so weak."

"Does it really bother you _that_ much? You _know_ making unrealistic demands of him like this won't make his power develop any faster."

Amaimon slammed the oven door shut to emphasize his anger. "Don't you _dare_ tell me how to raise my son!"

_He'll eventually hate you_. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he let the words go without speaking them. Amon obviously had a hard day and he didn't want to make it worse by putting his father in a bad mood. The two worked in a tense silence until dinner preparations were done thirty minutes later. Tonight they were having slow roasted Mammoth marinated in a sweet, black sauce and surrounded by Mandragora halves. To finish, Amaimon placed a small plate of Manticore tail beside Amon's cup.

The minotaur's brow scrunched together – Did he really think a few slices of food would make up for anything? "What's that?"

"He's still young enough to enjoy simple things," he answered, eyes never leaving the plate. Asterius wondered what his intentions were, but, as usual, his expression gave nothing away. After a short pause, Amaimon sliced the meat and placed a generous portion on his son's plate. He took his seat, rested his chin in his hand, and blankly stared at something in the distance as they waited.

"Is it ready yet?" Amon entered the kitchen with a damp towel over his head. "Smells good!"

"Get rid of the towel, Amon."

"Sorry!" He ruffled his hair one last time and set it aside on the counter.

Dinner was quiet, but the silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable or unwelcome. Amaimon watched him with a stoic face, but Amon's attention was far too devoted to the delicious, tender meat to notice.

"Slow down and chew your food," he scolded.

Asterius-niisan chuckled. "That's a bit ironic coming from _you_, isn't it?"

He narrowed his eyes menacingly at the minotaur. "Don't mock me." The empty threat only made him laugh harder.

Amon looked up from his plate, juice dripping down his chin, and blushed. He covered his mouth with a napkin as he chewed. Despite a bad habit of shoveling food into his mouth, Amon's table manners were unmatched. "Where did you learn to conduct yourself so well?" Asterius-niisan grinned at him. "It certainly wasn't from your father."

"This is your last warning, aurochs," the earth king growled dangerously.

"Don't you want any, dad?"

"Hmm?" Amaimon perked up, surprised by his question. "I already ate." That wasn't true, but Amon had such a monstrous appetite that he often ate entire dishes by himself. "It's all for you."

When dinner was finished, and Amon had devoured the remains of the roasted Mammoth, Amaimon asked him how he enjoyed True Cross Academy. Excited, Amon gave a brief summary of his day, lingering too much on his meeting with Hamada and specifically leaving out his ride to school, Uncle Mephisto's embarrassing introduction, and the incident with Rin-sensi.

But Amaimon never seemed interested in his stories. "Was that your first time meeting Aniue?"

"Uh, yeah. He's..." his voice trailed off as he tried to think of an appropriate word.

Asterius-niisan answered, "He's a piece of shi-"

"Swear."

He shrugged, "He's irritating. He makes me want to strangle something small and cute."

"Aniue can get overwhelming quickly." Amon nodded in agreement. "You'll get used to him eventually." He waved a hand at the topic. "Cram school continues tomorrow – Study before you go to bed tonight."

"Uh, d-dad, actually, I, uh..." Amon hesitated and smoothed his hair back. He didn't want to be an exorcist and hoped he could convince dad to let him drop the classes, or at least wait until next year. "D-Do you think that...m-maybe," he paused again and looked down, too afraid to meet his gaze, "maybe I could..._not_ take exorcist classes?"

"No." His answer was quick and curt.

"B-But there's theater and track! I can join those clubs instead!"

"Will theater or track help you become a better demon?"

He chewed on his bottom lip. "I-I...no, but-"

"But _nothing_."

"I-I can learn how to be a demon next year!" he suggested, hoping dad would at least try to listen to him.

"I said _no_!" His shout made Amon flinch. "You can't do anything – You can barely put together a garden! I will _not_ become a laughing stock because of my powerless son!"

Amon stuttered mindlessly, but couldn't say anything.

"Go to your room and study," he continued, calmer. "And get that _stupid_ fantasy out of your head. I didn't bring you to Assiah so you could become one of those pathetic humans." He paused, waiting for him to leave. When he didn't, Amaimon snapped. "_I said go_!"

Forcing a sob back, Amon grabbed his towel and obeyed grudgingly. The sound of his bedroom door slamming echoed throughout the house.

Asterius stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the ceramic floor. He picked up the empty dishes and placed them quietly in the sink. "_You_ wash them," he spat, regarding the demon with a disappointed glare.

"Excuse me?" Amaimon snorted, incredulous. "What did you just say?"

"Wash the dishes," he repeated slowly.

He raised his eyebrows briefly in amusement and crossed his arms. "I'm a demon king. It's _your_ job to do menial things like cleaning."

Asterius glowered at Amaimon, his features taut with sudden ferocity. "Don't you dare call yourself that here. You are _not_ a demon or a king. You are a _father_ and you need to start acting like one... _Before_ he starts hating you."

The minotaur's words made him bristle. "Amon would never... It is _your_ job to-!"

"No. _My_ job is to do what's best for Amon's livelihood, and if that means I have to kick your deadbeat butt into shape, then I will." He opened his mouth to retort, but Asterius cut him off again. "Fathers clean up after their children. If you can't figure out how to use the dishwasher, the manual is in the black cabinet in the living room." He spun on his heel and left, angry steps ringing against the floor.

Amaimon stood alone in the kitchen, furious and dumbfounded.

* * *

Amon lied back on his bed and covered his eyes with an arm. His textbook sat discarded beside him, still on the first chapter an hour after he had opened it. He tried to read it, but he couldn't focus on the words – too many thoughts swirled around in his mind. Behemoth, noticing his apprehension, crawled up to him and licked his face repeatedly. He attempted to push the hobgoblin away, but it came back just as eager.

"Stop it," he wanted to sound annoyed, but his voice betrayed him.

"Behemoth, down." Amon sat up, surprised that he hadn't heard dad enter the room. Amaimon studied his face for a moment, searching for any indication of anger or hatred. All he could see was a deep misery that he suspected no words of his would assuage. He sat on the edge of his bed and held out a pink lollipop. Amon accepted it. "What are you working on?"

He stuck the hard candy in his mouth and tapped the open book. "We have to pick two meisters by tomorrow."

"Meisters?" He gave it an uninterested glance. "Knight and doctor."

"O-Oh," Amon was surprised by his quick answer. "I'm not sure if I would be good with a sword."

"It's not about the sword," he explained. "When your powers develop, it will be easier for you to attack your opponent if he's closer – You'll need to learn how to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat. You're clumsy so you'll also need to familiarize yourself with medicinal plants for your wounds. With your abilities, you should be able to summon any flora you want at will so long as there's fertile dirt nearby."

"Wow, can you do all that stuff dad?" Amon circled the two words.

"Of course. And you will too one day," he added the latter quickly – It would give the boy some confidence, something he badly needed.

"How come you can't teach me?" Amaimon tilted his head at the question. "If you teach me, I won't have to attend cram school."

"I'm not a good teacher."

He frowned. "But-"

"How many times do I have to tell you: _no buts_!" As punishment, he pinched Amon's fat cheeks.

He laughed and tugged at Amaimon's wrists. "D-Dad!" His words were muffled by the lollipop. "That hurts! Stop!" But he only pulled harder.

"You have such a fat face," he complained. "It's still so round even after all these years." He released him.

"It's your fault for feeding me!" Amon laughed again, finally smiling. The combination of his bright eyes and happy expression was far too dangerous for even the roughest of demons to endure. Amaimon abruptly placed a hand on his head and turned him away.

"D-Don't look at me like that!"

"...Huh?"


	3. Chapter 3

"_Daddy! Daddy! Come look what I made!" Amon tugged roughly on his tattered jacket, trying to get his attention._

_Amaimon let out an exasperated sigh and rolled over. "What?" Wasn't Asterius supposed to be keeping the little brat busy? Where was that stupid bull?_

"_Look, look!"_

_The demon growled with irritation as he allowed the child to pull him up from his napping spot and into the living room of his decrepit palace. He deadpanned at the sight of a small hovel made of thick pillows, couch cushions, and his favorite blanket. Amon stood proudly with his hands firmly on his hips. "I told you not to make a mess, Amon."_

"_It's not a mess!" he retorted with a pout and puffed cheeks. "It's my palace and I'm prince!" He waved around his 'scepter', a long stick with a green leaf and a skewered apple at the top. "Everyone has to do what I say here! Now kneel!"_

"_Go play with Asterius." He turned, but the child grabbed the tattered edges of his jacket again._

"_No! It has to be you!" he whined. Amaimon sighed without knowing it and reluctantly complied. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could get back to his midday nap. Amon gently placed the apple on his right shoulder. "Do you swear to serve me and only me for eternity...or something?" He responded with a sharp glare. The child raised his hands above his head, taking his silence as a 'yes'. "Rise! Rise and serve your prince, Ser Amaim-" he was cut short by a sudden and violent coughing fit. Amon vomited blood and fainted._

_Amaimon caught him and shook his body in a futile attempt to bring him back to consciousness, ignoring the blood that stained his hands and clothes. Amon's face was contorted in pain and his breathing was ragged. He was going to die – Gehenna's miasma was killing him. That familiar sensation returned, unrelentingly tugging at his heart. _

_He panicked when his son stopped breathing. "Amon! ...Amon!"_

**Chapter Three  
****Smother**

A week passed quietly and soon high school started at True Cross Academy for first years. Amon was no longer nervous, having been subjected to a crowded class everyday for exorcist lessons. Even so, he took his time biking to the train station, his mind swirling with less than pleasant thoughts.

The heavy rain from yesterday had dwindled down to a fine drizzle, almost a mist. It made the air smell fresh and clean. Overhead, thick, gray clouds rolled over him, rumbling in the distance. Amon stopped on the sidewalk and looked up to watch them pass. He wasn't sure what had made him get off his bike or stare at the sky, but by the time he realized what he was doing, time had flown by and he was late.

Amon jumped back on his bike and decided to take a shortcut through the neighborhood instead of his usual path by the ocean. He would never hear the end of it if he missed the train on his first day of normal classes.

When he rounded the corner he saw Chikamatsu, the blond student he sat beside in cram school, on the other side of the street. His hair, which was normally pushed back in a spiky style, was wet, too wet to be from the light rain, and the pale blond locks stuck to his forehead. He was trapped against a wall by Darius, another, rather stubborn student. The half-demon was kin to Iblis and had dull burgundy hair that barely touched his shoulders. His sleeves were wet and not from rain. Amon had a vague idea of what happened between them before he arrived.

He slowed his pace and hesitated.

Amon knew getting involved would only make things worse for both of them, but he would never be able to forgive himself if he just continued to the station and Chikamatsu came to class with a black eye, or worse. His hands tightened around the rubber handles and, before he could think too much about it, he turned his bike and quickly crossed the empty street. Chikamatsu noticed him first, and his eyes were filled with relief.

"I asked you a question!" Darius growled, slamming a hand on the wall beside Chikamatsu's head.

"I don't know!" His voice was angry.

The demon of Iblis made a fist, but Amon grabbed his arm before their argument could turn violent. "Hey! Stop it!" Darius glared and yanked his arm back. "Leave him alone."

"Leave him alone?" His voice was gruff and dark. "_You_ should know better than anyone why he needs to be beaten." Amon looked at Chikamatsu and frowned. His back was pressed hard against the brick wall behind him and he was trembling – But whether it was from the cold or the situation, he couldn't tell. "Your father hates humans, doesn't he?" Darius' words were beginning to disturb him. "Me too. You must hate them just as much as we do, right?"

Amon felt a spasm of unease in his stomach. "O-Of course not," he said mildly. "I don't hate anyone."

Judging by his expression, that wasn't the answer he expected to hear. "You're just as weak as they are, then," he chortled. "No wonder you can't stop stuttering like an idiot."

"I'm _not_ weak."

"Is that so?" Darius stepped forward menacingly and leaned toward Amon to growl quietly in his ear, "Prove it."

He glanced at Chikamatsu and caught a glimpse of a pitying expression before he dropped his eyes to stare at his feet. "No," he said firmly, straightening his posture. "I don't have to prove anything to a _bully_."

"A bully?" Darius threw his head back and laughed. The sound made Amon sick. "You don't even know what a bully is," he hissed, his face devoid of humor. "Allow me to show you-"

He stopped and watched, startled, as a black vehicle pulled up beside them. Asterius-niisan got out and slammed the car door. "Amon! What are you doing? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Amon fumbled with his phone and checked its clock – Fifteen minutes until homeroom. "And you," he snarled, pointing at Darius. "Don't you _ever_ let me catch you harassing these boys again, understand?"

"I'm not afraid of you!"

Asterius-niisan towered over him. "Oh? _Prove it_," he spoke in a mocking tone that made the Iblis demon livid.

Darius punched him, but Asterius-niisan's flesh was made of steel – He didn't even blink when his fist made contact. The half-demon immediately pulled his hand back and swore loudly. His fingers were trembling and his knuckles were bleeding. "Pity – You punch like a child."

He chuckled darkly. "I bet _you_ punch like a cow. C'mon, hit me."

"I don't hit little girls." That made Darius furious, but he backed off, flexing his bleeding hand. "Get out of here before you get in trouble with your teachers." He obeyed, mumbling curses under his breath, and disappeared through a nearby door using his infinity key.

Amon released the breath he was holding. "Thanks, Asterius-nii-" The minotaur's expression silenced him mid-sentence.

"_Get in_!" he roared, grabbing the boy by the collar of his uniform and shoving him toward the car. "Be lucky _I_ was the one to find you and not your father!" He turned to Chikamatsu. "And you – In, now." Both boys quietly got into the backseat and waited patiently while Asterius-niisan attached their bikes to the back of his car.

"Uh... I-I'm sorry," Amon said meekly, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Nii-san usually isn't this forceful." Chikamatsu didn't respond, not that he expected him to, and stared out the window, watching the clouds overhead begin to break up. By the time Asterius-niisan started driving, the sun was out. Using the infinity key to get to school grounds would be faster than taking the bridge, but both Amon and Chikamatsu were too afraid to point this out to the enraged minotaur.

"Amon," Asterius-niisan called his name as he got out of the car. "Promise me you'll stay out of trouble."

His cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I will."

The minotaur studied him, brow pulled up in a way that looked sad and concerned rather than angry. Amon turned away and fidgeted with his bangs, trying to hide his face. He was tired of seeing people pity him. "I'll see you when you come home. Bring your friend so he can pick up his bike." Asterius-niisan sighed heavily and rolled up his window before driving away.

His stomach twisted into knots when he turned and found Chikamatsu beside him. Their eyes met briefly before he glanced up and feigned an unconvincing interest in the sky. Amon didn't know if he should speak, or wait, or continue up the staircase to class.

They remained silent until Amon decided he should, at least, apologize for taking his bike. "S-Sorry." The two said the word in unison.

"U-Uh. Y-You first," Amon urged gently.

"N-No, it's okay – Go ahead."

He hesitated and dragged his fingers quickly through his hair. "Sorry for...y'know, stealing your bike. Y-You can come get it after school." He mentally berated himself for making it seem like he was a thief.

Chikamatsu only nodded in response. "I'm sorry for," he paused. "For the way I've treated you," he finally admitted.

Amon suddenly felt guilty. "I-It's okay!" His smile was resigned. "Lots of people treat me worse – It's nothing to apologize for."

He continued despite his words. "I thought you were just like Amaimon; that you hated humans and wanted to hurt them." He sucked in a shaky breath. "I've always been afraid of demons and I thought you were just like the rest of them. But then you tried to stand up for me. I'm sorry I judged you." Amon was speechless. He lowered his eyes and kicked at a small rock on the ground. "Do you think," Chikamatsu started, "M-Maybe we could be friends?"

"_F-Friends_?" Amon's chest tightened. He pressed a hand to it as if that would ease some of the pressure building within him.

He didn't know how to respond. Was it normal to openly ask someone to be your friend? How did people even become friends anyway? Amon never had friends in Gehenna – There weren't any children his age to play with and dad wouldn't let him leave the palace lest the other demons discover how weak he was. He spent his days playing with bariyons and imaginary soldiers, and his nights studying and practicing in the library. Even after Amon was smuggled into Assiah and given more freedom, dad would never let him near other kids, saying they were stupid and weak and that they might taint him if he got too close. He knew better now, but...

Would _he_ be a good friend? Could Amon, a boy who only ever watched from a distance, be able to open up to someone?

He didn't know. It felt like he didn't know anything anymore.

Lost in his thoughts, Amon didn't notice he had gone quiet for a long time. "It's okay."

"H-Huh?"

Chikamatsu's tone was somber. "It's okay if you don't want to be my friend-"

"N-No!" Amon cut him off abruptly. "I-I want to be friends!"

His face lit up. "Really?"

"Y-Yeah! Of course!" He forced a smile.

"Great! Oh, and you can call me Jun!"

"You can call me Amon!" He wondered how furious dad would be when he found out.

* * *

Magic Circles and Seals was an absolute mess. For the past few days, the students have repeatedly drawn practice circles and today they were using them to summon demons to command as their familiars. Small demons were scurrying about everywhere and everyone was either mumbling incoherent words to their papers or trying to control their familiars. Dad had repeatedly told Amon _never_ to attempt summoning his familiar, even as a demonstration. Not that he could if he wanted to – Shesha, a massive naga deity with a thousand heads, needed an extensive amount of blood; more than Amon was comfortable with.

Instead, he summoned small, cute garden snakes. They nipped at him affectionately if he offered his hand, but when they realized he didn't have any sake for them, they ignored him and slithered away.

Shura-sensi snorted. "The son of _Amaimon_ can't even control nagas?"

Amon sighed and tore the paper in half. "They only listen to me if I have alcohol." Her attire embarrassed him, so he tried to avoid looking at her.

She threw her head back and laughed loudly. "How typical!"

"Aren't you going to summon anything, Jun?" He seemed startled by Amon's voice.

"Huh? O-Oh," he hesitated as if he were remembering something unpleasant. "No, I already know I can't summon demons."

"Step back and watch a professional!"

The girl that stepped forward raised her hands dramatically. Jinx was a very petite girl with curly, purple hair. She was first year's class representative and the girl who tried to trip Amon the first day of exorcist classes. She was exceptionally talented and smart, and _hated_ being second to _anyone_ in _anything_. Which is, apparently, why she often targeted Amon, who was second only to her.

Once she was certain she had the students' attention, Jinx nonchalantly tossed the slip of paper over her shoulder and snapped her fingers. As she did, she fell back and, with a puff of pink smoke, was sitting in a large, comfortable – rather familiar – pink chair. A matching bat, its wings accentuated by sweets, sneered down at her from its resting spot atop the throne. Beside her, a pot magically poured a steaming cup of tea. It floated gently into her hand. Most of the students were impressed, to say the least.

Shura-sensi narrowed her eyes, but Jinx glared back with just as much ferocity. "I've seen that chair before..."

"So?" She spat stubbornly.

"Its nice to know Mephisto's probably sittin' on his ass right now," she snickered.

Jinx grinned smugly at Amon. "I have _tons_ of familiars that hang on my every word!"

"I-I have a familiar! I just...can't summon him."

She snorted, but the teacher seemed interested in that. "What's his name?"

"I call him Shesha."

"...Shesha?" Jinx hooted. "Isn't that another name for a hookah? _You_ can summon a _hookah_?"

"Ananta Shesha?" Shura-sensi ignored her and inclined her head in thought.

"Maybe? He has a lot of names in a lot of different languages."

She hummed and took a sip of her drink. "That's impressive."

He blushed. "O-Oh, i-it's not. Dad bonded him to me when I was an infant, so _technically_ he's dad's familiar, not mine."

Jinx's temper flared. "_That's_ not impressive! He can't even summon it!"

Shura-sensi snorted. "Good – It wouldn't be able to fit if he could."

The girl hopped out of her chair and shoved a finger in his face. "Stop trying to one-up me! _I'm_ going to be the best exorcist in this class!"

Amon shrugged. "Okay, good luck." She crossed her arms tight against her chest and huffed angrily at his lax response.

* * *

"Amon?" Yukio-sensi's voice made him drop the glass he was holding and spill its contents over his notes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. "You're the son of an _earth king_, surely you know how to extract aloe vera?" Amon didn't respond. Yukio-sensi shook his head, sighed with disdain, and placed a new potted aloe plant in front of him. "Try again. If you can't get this right, I'll have to fail you for today. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, Mr. Okumura." He picked up the knife and reached out for a spiky leaf, but his hands were trembling and he couldn't steady them.

"Calm down," the girl beside him placed a hand over his. It only made him shake more.

For today's demon pharmaceuticals class, he was paired with Illustri, the first person to recognize him as Amaimon's son during orientation. He had been rude to her and promised himself he would apologize, but when he did, she just stared at him with a dour expression and asked him why he was so hung up on something so trivial. Amon didn't have an answer.

She released him when she noticed her touch was making him uncomfortable. "It's okay to make mistakes," she said, slicing one of her leaves neatly in half.

"Mistakes?" He didn't understand what she was saying.

"You're afraid of making mistakes and that's why you're having such a hard time."

Amon frowned at the plant. "Everyone expects me to do well because-"

She cut him off. "No on expects anything from you." Her face was smooth and unreadable, but there was something hidden in her eyes – Concern, maybe?

"Thanks, Illustri." His hands were no longer shaking.

"Cut like this," she slowly dragged her knife across the edge of the aloe leaf and Amon mimicked her movements.

* * *

"Let's go, Amon!" Rin-sensi scolded him from across the training room. "Stop standing there – Fight back!"

Jun, his partner, lowered his shinai. "Are you okay, Amon? You don't look so good."

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the room still swayed beneath him. "I...I..." He leaned on his knees to keep his balance and coughed violently. "I'm okay." He raised his sword.

"You look really pale-" Amon silenced him with an overhead swing he clumsily blocked.

* * *

The longer he waited, watched the students run from the reaper, the more anxious he grew. Reapers read emotions – If a student faltered, it would become hostile and attack. Amon would never be able to hold his own against one, especially with the difficult day he's had. He glanced at Jinx, his unwilling partner, and received a glare in return. Maybe he could keep his composure if he was paired with Jun, but Jinx... If he messed up, she would berate him and make him more tense, if that was even possible.

Amon had a _bad_ feeling about this.

"Next pair!"

He swallowed hard and pushed off the wall. "Hey, Broccoli-Head," she stopped him. "You better not trip or I'm going to let the reaper eat you."

_I won't trip_, he might have said, but he couldn't manage any words.

Descending the ladder was agonizing and waiting for the reaper to be unleashed was even worse. Jinx fidgeted impatiently with her curls as Amon flipped through various strategies in his mind. Simply running from the demon wouldn't work, but one person should be able to distract it long enough for the other to subdue it from behind. And, considering the reaper would be more interested in him than his partner...it was a smart tactic.

"Jinx, I have an idea."

"Bugger your idea – Just outrun it," she spat. He pressed his lips together.

The frog dropped, took one long look at Amon, and erupted into a frenzy. A few minutes in, he was struggling to keep up with Jinx. He was never a strong runner and the poor condition of his lungs only made it worse. It was becoming harder to breathe, and his lungs pounded painfully with each step he took.

Jinx glanced over her shoulder and scowled. "What are you doing!? Keep up!"

He tried to respond, to tell her to go after its collar as he continued in a circle, but all that came out was a violent, wet cough. Amon stumbled and lost his balance. On his knees, he pressed his hands to his chest, trying to ease the burning sensation that consumed his lungs. The room spun, around and around and around, and all Amon could hear over the thrumming of his heart was his panicked wheezing.

It felt like he was drowning – He couldn't breathe and each time he tried to suck in air, he choked on something that wasn't there. Fear flooded his mind as the reverberating footsteps of the reaper drew closer. He attempted to stand, but the sight of the frog lunging for him made him cry out helplessly and cover his head with his arms.

"Amon! Are you okay? Get up!" The next thing he knew, he could breathe again and Jinx was shaking him.

The teacher yanked hard on the frog's chain, pulling it back to the center of the arena.

Realizing he was no longer in danger, Amon slowly uncurled himself. He was uncomfortably aware of their unwavering eyes watching him – Stunned, horrified, disgusted. It was silent as Jinx pulled him clumsily to his feet and guided him to the ladder. She waited until he was near the top before following.

Amon immediately grabbed a towel from the rack and threw it over his head to hide his face. Jun said something when he passed, but he ignored it. He went to the other side of the platform, as far away from the other students as possible, and slumped down in the corner. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, and rested his chin on a knee.

"Next pair!" He was grateful the instructor tried to brush off the incident.

The remainder of class dragged, but eventually it was over and the students were done for the day. Jinx approached him cautiously as the group began to disperse. He didn't look up, hoping she would just say something demeaning and leave him. But, to his surprise, she didn't.

Instead, she crouched down to his level and tried to make eye-contact with him. "Are you okay?" Her concern seemed sincere.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly.

"Why didn't you tell the teacher you had asthma?"

Amon had miasma poisoning as a child and still suffered symptoms years later, but he didn't bother to correct her. "Sorry," he mumbled.

And then Jinx did something unexpected – She smiled and ruffled the towel on his head like Asterius-niisan sometimes would. "You're just like a puppy. Y'know how they look up at you with those big, brown eyes and act all guilty instead of angry, even though they did nothing wrong? It's really hard to stay mad at you."

He laughed at that. "You're such a girl!"

She flushed and puffed out her cheeks stubbornly. "What's wrong with being a girl, huh!?" She snatched the towel from his head. The static caused by the fabric rubbing against his hair made his spike bristle in all directions. Jinx covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.

"What?" She shook her head quickly. "What's so funny?" Annoyed, he took out his phone and turned its camera on. The sight made him burst into laughter. "It looks like broccoli!"

Jinx couldn't hold back anymore and laughed loudly with him.

* * *

Amaimon greeted him with a scowl when he came home. "Did you learn anything?" It was the same thing he asked every day, without so much as a '_hello_'.

He brushed dad's question off with a small shrug. "Dad, I'm...kinda sweaty from practical training. I'm going to go shower." Amaimon narrowed his eyes incredulously, but let him go.

"Hurry up," he said pointedly.

Amon locked the bathroom door and threw his uniform to the floor, keeping his back to the mirror, afraid of seeing the misery in his own reflection. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand and let the heat wash over his back, relaxing his muscles. It was soothing. Almost soothing enough to make him forget about his day.

Almost.

He didn't want to bother anyone with his crying or show dad how truly weak he was.

Here, no one would hear him. He let out everything he kept bottled inside, all the emotions he couldn't shed in front of dad – the sadness, the frustration, the shame, everything. It poured out of him like a torrent and he couldn't stop it, not that he wanted to. He cried and sobbed until nothing was left.

Shoulders shaking, he covered his mouth with both hands and slid to the floor, hot water mixing with his tears.


End file.
